The Locket
by But I Have Promises To Keep
Summary: It was a promise, a promise that she would come home again.
1. Chapter one: Natara

**I usually don't have two stories going on at once, but I've had this idea for a long time and need to get it out of my mind. The only A.N. I have is that the PoV changes, and whoevers PoV it is it will be the name of the chapter. It'll also be written at the top. Well…that's it. Please review and let me know what you think so far?**

* * *

_**Natara**__**Williams**_

"Just be careful".

"I'll be fine, Mal. If you haven't noticed l can take care of myself" I said with a smirk.

"I'm serious".

It had been only a few months ago that Mal and I started dating. Mal and I had been semi-undercover when it happened, pretending to be on a date at some charity meeting while we were actually keeping an eye on an important benefactor who had been recently threatened. I had joked that this, saying that situations that involved pretending to be a couple were happening increasingly often. He joked that maybe we should try it once for real. Our relationship started out as a joke, but it had blossomed into so much more. Recently I had gotten a call from D.C., and they wanted to temporarily relocate me for another case. I was going to take it, make it my last case with them, and resign soon after. Partly because of Mal, partly because I was so attached to San Francisco and feared being called away permanently. It was a rather odd case, since I wasn't even staying in America for it. I was heading out to Tel Aviv for a few weeks, since a total of three traveling FBI agents had gone missing around there in the past month.

"I'll be fine" I said, quickly checking the time to see how long until my plane left "And I promise I'll be home for New Years". Christmas was coming up, it was only two weeks away. I was still going to be in Israel at the time, but if everything went as planned I would be home in enough time to spend New Years with Mal.

"Speaking of that…" Mal reached in his pocket and pulled out a box, one with a Christmas bow on it. I felt a little bad, I was planning on finding something for him in Israel. I took it and opened it, revealing a locket. It was a dull silver color, slightly smaller than a chickens egg and in the shape of two angel wings. Before I could respond Mal had taken it and gently placed it around my neck, where it rested over my beating heart.

I smiled, saying "Who would have guessed that tough-guy Mal Fallon knew anything about picking jewelry?".

"Actually…Amy helped…a little".

I rolled my eyes. By 'a little', I knew Amy had pretty much told him what to do. "Well, it's beautiful, thank you".

As if on cue, I heard a cool female voice announce the 12:00 plane for Israel was leaving. I pulled Mal into a hug, and for a moment neither of us let go.

"It's a promise, you hear?" he said quietly in my ear "That locket's a promise that you'll come home".

"That may be the cheesiest thing I've ever heard a man say" I whispered, pulling away. He walked with me and helped me put my luggage on the security rack, and we stopped before I went in security to say goodbye. He was barely smiling, and the slight one he had seemed a little faked. "I'll be fine" I repeated.

As a goodbye he pressed his hand below my chin, kissing my forehead. It was a gesture that I found a little odd, but the fact that it was something I only ever saw him do to me I secretly adored. With that I left, going through security and boarding the plane. As I boarded I searched for his chocolate-brown haired figure in the crowd, but was unable to find it. The plane had barely gotten off the ground when I noticed my locket had somehow opened, and for the first time I saw what was inside. It was the photo of us in front of the station, the kind that usually had everyone working there in it. It looked as if it had once been the size of a wallet photo that you would give a visiting child as a souvenir, but was cut down to size. I can remember the day they took it, I wanted to stay out of it, I didn't feel like it was my place. But Mal insisted I belonged in it, and I had complied. The part which held him, Amy, Kai, Blaise, and I had been cut out of the big picture and placed inside. I knew it had been taken a few weeks after Ken's death. Maybe I was imagining it, but I could swear the smiles we had were slightly faked.

* * *

It took several uneventful hours to land in the airport in Tel Aviv, and even thought it was winter in San Francisco it was extremely hot and dry as I walked outside. I was searching for a Israeli law enforcement officer who I was told would be assisting me, a man named Locke Katz. I immediately spotted a man who looked like he was looking for someone, and he smiled as I approached.

"Ah, Natara, is it not?" he said. His accent was thick, but not an Israeli one. It sounded more Australian than anything else. He had that Israeli look to him, with his dark olive skin, dark eyes and hair, but his different accent made him seem like something odd and exotic. He had the look of one place and the accent of another, making his voice very out of place. He shook my hand firmly, taking one of my bags as we walked to a waiting taxi. We tossed my things in the trunk, and the two of us got in the back seat. I knew something was wrong as soon as I got in, the driver had locked the doors the minute I had sat down. I could hear someone yelling, and as I looked out the window I could see a dark-haired man running towards the taxi. He was yelling, but I couldn't hear what. My name was scribbled in untidy English on a piece of cardboard, which he was holding in his hand. Before he could reach us, the driver pulled sharply away and was already rushing onto the street.

"You're not Locke, are you?".

"No, I'm not" the man said. He reached in his pocket, pulling out a small switchblade. His voice had transformed into a fully American accent, his Australian one disappearing completely. He opened the blade and teasingly twirled it in his hands, clearly an attempt to unnerve me. "And if you value your life at all, you'll do exactly what I say".


	2. Chapter two: Natara

**Hey, just letting anyone who reads my other story know, I'll probably start updating that one every other day. I'm going to make this one my main focus, and will probably be able to keep my routine with this one. Thanks to everyone who took the time to read/favorite/follow/review! Replies:**

**Oryt: Thanks! It seems like you scream things while reading my stories a lot…it's not a bad thing. I randomly start raging when I'm reading books too. And it's often at very inappropriate times…such as in the middle of class…O.o**

**mozzi-girl: Thanks! **

**The Sarcastic Polar Bear: It that a good 'woah!'? **

**maltararox21: Oh my gosh, really? That completly made my day…or more accurately my week! I'm honored, really! That means so much! Yeah, I think I did see you're a lot like Kai somewhere on here. Unfortunatly I don't look or even act like any of the characters…not even in the slightest :( That is rather clever though :) Thanks again!**

**The one and only -A: Thanks**

**Things in Ink: Thanks! **

* * *

**_Natara Williams_**

I didn't react, I wouldn't give him that satisfaction. I kept my face impassive, not allowing him to see even a flicker of fear.

"You took all those other agents" I said calmly "you've been kidnapping FBI agents. Why?".

He still twirled the knife in his hand, as if showing how eager he was to use it. "Only the ones who hold value". He pressed the tip into the pad of his thumb, rotating it as if to show it off to me. "But of course, not so valuable that they weren't disposable. It wasn't as difficult as I thought, one murder of an American tourist and they swarmed the place. It was easy enough to catch one, but not so easy to keep one contained".

"You killed him" I said confidently. I may have only skimmed the file, which was packed in a locked suitcase in my bag, but I could remember the missing people.

The man didn't answer right away, and it was only after a moment when he said "Such a shame. Never even got around to asking for ransom, and this was the same for all of them".

"Why kidnap FBI agents?" I questioned, trying already to think of a plan "Why not normal people? It would certainly be easier".

"But people like you would fetch a heftier price" he smirked "Leroy Anderson, out first little 'friend' would have fetched a lovely price if he had only done what we said. Do you know what he did, what brave act gave him a certain fame?".

I did. It had been in his file, and I was amazed when I had read it. "He saved a little girl" I said "He was shot in chest, only saved by his vest, several times. Through his injuries he managed to save the girl, and escaped only with a few broken ribs".

"Exactly" he said with a apprehensive smile "And all the others, they had a story too. No one wants to kill a hero, and we were selling their lives back to the government. Imagine what they would pay for someone like you! How many lives have you saved, how many killers have you stopped? They would only send the best to find missing Agents, and the best is what we take. Unfortunately…none of the others came as quietly as you. They caused more trouble than they were worth, and had to be disposed of".

"Come quietly?" I said, my eyes narrowing. "Let's get one thing straight, I did not 'come quietly'".

"Whatever you say".

The car slowed to a stop as we reached the outskirts of Tel Aviv. Since I was visiting over Hanukkah, the streets were empty. Most people were probably visiting relatives in a nicer part of the city, since this was clearly a poorer part of Israel. The wheels of the car kicked up the sandy dust from the ground, and as we stopped my door was immediatly unlocked and opened from the outside. A woman, one that also had that Israeli look to her, was waiting. Before I could even get out she had grabbed my upper arm, practically dragging me out. She was tall and powerfully built, and her strong fingers had a vice-like grip on my arm. She didn't say anything, but Locke's impersonator and the driver was already getting out.

"What had been taking you so long?" she said sharply. Unlike the other man, her voice was thick with the regions accent. Her words were forced and sharp, and it was clear she wasn't a fluent English speaker.

"Relax, we're here now" the man said calmly. He and the driver shut their doors, and as they walked they kicked up more dust from the dirt road.

With the dust as my cover, I quickly elbowed the woman in the ribs. I heard her cry out in pain, and her grip on my arm was weakened. I broke away, sprinting away from my captors. I ignored their calls from behind me, darting into the space between two of the houses. I could hear them behind me, and I felt a sharp pain just to the right of my left shoulder blade. I felt something hot run down my back, and I stumbled and fell to the dusty ground. The man who had been impersonating Locke had thrown his knife, and it had embedded itself several centimeters into my back. I fell flat on my face, and as I landed I could feel Mal's gift press into my collar bone. Dust was in my eyes, and as much as I blinked I couldn't seem to get it out enough to see. I didn't see who it was, but someone kicked me over on my back as if checking if I was dead. The knife imbedded in my back went deeper in as my back touched the ground, but I knew it had fallen out when I felt the side of the handle press into my lower back. I felt several ribs crack as someone with iron-tipped boots kicked me sharply in my side, and I couldn't help the grunt of pain I made as they kicked me again and I felt my skin split. Just like with my back, I could feel the hot liquid that was my blood spill out at my side. Without a moments pause I was grabbed by my hair, my blood still spilling onto the streets.

"You have no idea" I heard Locke's impersonator hiss "how disposable you are".

I quickly blinked the dust out of my eyes, only now able to see his ruthless face. His eyes were filled with deep hatred, and it was clear he had no regard for any life but his own. I knew, even if my ransom was payed, that if I ever came home I would be in peices.


	3. Chapter Three: Mal & Natara

**Sorry, in a bit of a rush, so no review replies. Promise I'll have them next time. **

* * *

_**Mal Fallon**_

I hadn't heard from Natara for two days, and despite that fact that there was a great chance Natara was undercover and unable to call, I was worried. It wasn't until the end of the second day that any of us had any sign if her, and even that news didn't put anyone at ease. I was walking down to the crime lab, intending to once again ask Amy if she'd heard anything, when I walked in on her practically crying into the phone. Upon my entrance she looked up, pressing her fingers to the receiver as she tearfully whispered to me. "Natara's gone".

"What?".

"The man she was supposed to meet—he said he saw her get in the wrong car—the FBI was just contacted for ransom money—".

I took the phone from her, and she didn't object. Whoever she had been talking to was still speaking, and I only caught the last part of his sentence.

"—and we're trying everything in our power, working with Israeli officials, to bring Agent Williams home".

"You're paying Natara's ransom?" I blurted out without thinking.

The man on the other line didn't seem surprised at the change from Amy to my voice, and continued. "Both the U.S. and Israel have strict non-negotiation policy when it comes to hostage situations. As a result, we're doing everything we can to get a location on Agent Williams—".

"So you're just letting her sit there?" I roared "There has to be something you can do!".

"Please, sir, I understand. This is a stressful time for all of us, and we're going to do everything we can to bring her home—".

I didn't hear how she ended that sentence, I had hung up, slamming the phone on the counter. How could they do that? All the lives Natara and I had saved, all the killers we had caught! How could they let her out there, who knows what they were doing to her?

"What are you going to do?" Amy whispered, her eyes still wet.

"What else can I do?" I said, trying to calm down "I'm going to Israel".

* * *

_**Natara Williams**_

I shivered against the cold cement floor, trying to move so I was lying in a more comfortable position. But it hurt to much to make the large movement of rolling from my stomach to my back, and I gave up. It was so dark in the room I was in, I couldn't even see what was two feet in front of me. Because of this I had no means of telling what was night and what was day, except for the sounds of day activities in the floor above me. Days merged into each other, and I had no idea how long I had been here. Days? Weeks? I had no idea, and there were other things that confused me also. If I was in Israel, a country that was usually warm, then why was I so cold? Why did the floor become like ice at times, why were my fingers always numb? There had once been what I assumed was a ratty blanket, I wasn't entirely sure because of the pitch darkness, but I had long ago ripped it up and blindly used it on my injuries. But it didn't help, and I was almost certain my wounds were infected. Why else would my bones feel as if they were set ablaze? Why else would every move I made send such pain shooting throughout my body? There was one advantage though, being unable to see as I simply lied on the ground. Since I was blind to my surroundings, I had to focus on my other senses. I could hear things, hear what they said upstairs sometimes. I knew someone was looking for me, and they were going to move me. I knew I had to leave a trace of myself here, something so whoever was looking for me knew I was once here. I clasped my hand around the tiny peice of metal around my neck, knowing what I had to do. If it was Mal looking for me, I could leave this behind and he'd know I was here. But this locket was the only tangable trace of hope that I had, my only peice of home. I propped myself up on my elbows, already exhausted from the effort of simply doing this. Knowing it was getting risky, and I could be taken at any time, I tried to pull it off over my head. But I found I couldn't, my shoulder was stiff, and I wasn't able to lift my arm above my head . With all the strength I could muster, I yanked down hard on the chain. I felt a slight sting at my neck as the thin chain broke, and then the feeling of the cold chain snake down my neck. I held the tiny orb-like shape between my fingers, wishing the metal would be warm since I held it so tightly. But my fingers were too cold for that, they had no warmth to give the metal. I took it and held it close to my face, close enough that it was almost touching my lips.

As if I were telling it a secret, I softly whispered "Please". My voice was barely audible, my throat far too dry for speech. Gently, as if releasing a baby bird, I let the cold metal roll from my fingers. It rolled a few inches from me, lying harmlessly on the dusty ground. Exhausted, I let my arms fall out from under me and returned to my position on the ground. My swollen cheek, which was a result from being hit by the woman for elbowing her, was soothed by the cold ground. As if on cue, I heard the door to the stairs above me burst open. Light, which I hadn't seen in who knows how long, blinded me. But I kept my eyes open, determined to stare down my enemy. If I was going to die, I wasn't going down without a fight.


	4. Chapter Four: Mal

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**mozzi-girl: Thanks so much! **

**Oryt: Thanks! I'm warning you though…that part is approaching…:)**

**maltararox21: Thanks so much! Seriously, your reviews mean a lot! And yes, I have seen 'friends' before (I don't watch a lot of TV, but that's one of the few things that I occasionally watch) so I know who Phobe is :) She's one of my favorite characters.**

* * *

_**Mal Fallon**_

Luckily, I was able to catch a plane to Israel within the next twenty-four hours. I took a plane at noon, but because of the time difference it was already late evening when I arrived in Tel Aviv. As I got off the plane there was already someone waiting for me, a man in a stiff police uniform. He didn't see me at first, but I saw him. I saw the bright stitching, which stood out against the dark fabric, that spelled out his name.

'_Locke Katz'._

Remembering this was the name of the man Natara was supposed to be working with, I practically ran to this man, ignoring the protests of the slow-moving tourists crowding the room. When I got to him he had his back turned, and before he could even turn around I tapped him roughly on the shoulder.

The man whipped around, clearly startled. He muttered something in Hebrew, but since I couldn't understand him all I said was "What?".

"Ah, you are American. Can I help you?" he said with a smile, holding his hand out to shake mine. His accent was odd, almost a cross between Australian and Israeli, as if he had spent plenty of time in both places. I didn't return this gesture, and his smile faded slightly. How was I supposed to know this wasn't The same imposter that had taken Natara?

"Detective Mal Fallon, San Francisco police department" I said "You were supposed to meet Special Agent Natara Williams here three days ago?".

"Ah, yes. Are you here to assist with the investigation regarding her kidnapping?".

"Yes" I lied. In truth, the only person who had any idea I was here was Amy. I didn't even tell Captain Yeong, but I knew I'd be getting a call as soon as she found out.

"Excellent" Locke said "Perhaps you can assist me in looking at something? I found a place where I believe she was held for some time, but I am unsure. I was contacted by your government about someone coming, but I was not expecting it so quickly! Good thing I came to get you a little early!".

It was apparent he didn't know much about America. I had already told him I was from a police department, but he still seemed to think I was a Fed. I didn't correct him, since for right now this misconception could help me.

"Let's go then, the faster we find her the better".

I grabbed the bag I had quickly packed and he led me outside to the parking lot, where his small car was parked. I threw my things in the back, he got in the drivers side, and I in the passenger side. We didn't even make it out of the parking lot when my phone rang, and I knew who it was even before I answered it.

"What do you think you're doing?" Captain Yeongs voice rang out as soon as I picked up. "This is an international affair! We have no jurisdiction over this!".

She was speaking so loudly that her voice carried slightly, and as we waited to pull out into the road I could see Locke staring at me strangely. I knew I had to play it off as if I had permission to be here, no matter the price I had to pay when I came back.

"Yes, I've arrived safely and am working with authorities to find her" I said, answering a question that was never asked.

"What are you taking about? Come back here this instant!".

"I'm afraid I can't do that" I said calmly "I'll just be taking care if things here and coming back".

"What are you talking about? You don't even have—".

But I hung up before she finished that sentence.

"Everything alright?" Locke asked, pulling out onto the crowded streets.

"Yes, everything's fine" I lied again. After a while the paved streets faded to dirt roads, and Locke slowed to a stop. There were a few officers, all in stiff uniforms similar to Locke's, standing outside of a small home. As we got out of the car and approached he nodded to the one blocking the door, and he wordlessly stepped out of the way. We stepped into the small home, and Locke led me through another door and down a set of steep steps. It must have been pitch dark at one time, but now a small battery powered lantern was hanging from the ceiling.

"We did not want to touch the scene, since it is a international affair, but if you are here we should be good to look around".

But my eyes had fixed on something on the ground, something small. It was lying by a large red stain on the cement ground, and I didn't hesitate to kneel down to it.

Locke didn't notice. "Of course, I am no doctor, but several of us have become concerned about the blood volume on the ground. It is possible it is a detrimental amount, but we cannot be entirely—".

He stopped when I saw what I was doing. I had picked up the tiny object, recognizing it immediately. The metal was covered in dry blood, but it was undeniably Natara's locket. I pried it open, just to be sure, and saw the same photo I had placed inside completely unharmed. I held it tightly in my hand, curling my fingers around it. Natara's fingers had once done this too. It had once hung over her beating heart, and was now covered the blood that had once run through her veins.

"You are not from the Federal Bureau of Investigation, are you?".

"No".

"But you have a personal connection to this woman, do you not?".

I stood up, still holding the locket tightly. "Yes, I do. And if you're gonna try and send me back, good luck. I'm not going back until I find her".

Locke held up his hands in mock surrender, saying "It is fine, I get it. You have as much of a right to be here as any of us. Although I would not advertise the fact you are not supposed to be here. I would keep it between you and I, yes?".


	5. Chapter Five: Natara & Mal

**Just as a side note, the first part of this is set two hours before Mal finds the locket. The second is in the present.**

**maltararox21: **

**Thanks! I agree, I like writing in Mal's PoV better, it's not as depressing. Still, Natara's PoV is necessary in this chapter, so prepare yourself. And I do love friends, it's always good for a laugh. I love Phoebe, especially when she talks about being 'Street Phoebe'. :D Thnaks for the review! **

**mozzi-girl:**

** Thanks so much! That really means a lot! Honestly, most of my idea's come from things I'm either afraid of, or things I used to be afraid of. One of my greatest fears, as odd as this sounds, is being made into something that I'm not. Whether it be amnesia, a mental illness or a extremely traumatic event (like being kidnapped), I guess you could say I'm afriad of losing myself. Thats why my fanfictions tend to be darker, because I usually write about that fear. As for the words I choose…I have no idea. I literally sit down every day, say to myself "Okay, you have twenty minutes to write" and put down the first thing that comes to mind. Little disorganized…but it's the only way I can seem to avoid writers block :P Thanks again! It really means a lot!**

* * *

_Two hours earlier_

**_Natara Williams _**

It took me a moment of squinting to see who was coming for me. And even then, it wasn't sight that told me who was coming. It was the lighter steps, the lack of a sharp voice chiding at me. The waft of a certain sweet smell, which was so unlike the coppery scent of blood, which was what I was breathing in for the past few days. I felt a hand, one that was just like the one of the woman with the vice-like grip, grab my upper arm. But I did not want her help, I wanted to show these people that they will not break me. That I am not an object, which can be sold and bought. They will not dehumanize me. Even though every part of my body objected, I slowly got to my feet. My ribs and back burned, and it felt as if my arms weighed too much, but I began to walk. My legs were shaking so much that I knew my whole body was also, and I was slightly bent over in pain. My stomach was in knots, and every movement sent a wave of pain through my body. But I kept my chin up, and I didn't take the woman's assistance. I would not bow to the inevitable, I would survive. Even if I didn't make it out physically, if I died I wanted my face forever imprinted in their minds. Not the one of me bleeding and dying, but the one that held every once of deviancy I had. I painstakingly dragged myself up the stairs, and the moment I did I felt Locke's impersonator grab my left arm. He jerked me to the side, and I knew this was on purpose, he knew this was my bad shoulder. But I did not show how I was in pain. My eyes watered slightly from it, and I had to bite my lip as to not cry out, but I did not break. He shoved me roughly ahead of him, and for the first time I could see the rest of the building I had been in for the past few days. It was small, and clearly not someone's actual home. If I had my guess it was a rental home, perhaps one a tourist would stay in. That would explain why no one was in the streets the day I was taken. Any visitors would most likely be out with family most of the day, or even in town to enjoy the festivities. I was led out to a small garage, where I could see the trunk of a car was already open.

"We can either do this the easy way, or the hard way" the man hissed. I didn't answer, but my face remained stoic. If he thought I would back down, fade away, he was wrong. If I could hold out long enough for rescue…fine. But I would not go down like this, herded like cattle.

His grip on my arm tightened and he pulled me roughly close, hissing in my ear. "If you think I'm not going to break you–that you've won–you've got another thing coming. I don't need to break you, I've already done that. I have complete control over you".

It all made sense. The desire for control, the fixation on his knife. The look on his face, almost joy, when he made others hurt. The desire to see my fear. It all added up, he has all the signs of being a tyrannical sadist. And if this was true, the last thing I was about to do us give him any power over me. "Well here's a news flash for you" I whispered back. My voice was hoarse, and I barely managed to get the last few out. "You can break my body, you can even kill me. But you will _never_ control me".

Impossibly fast, he whipped his arm up and hit me roughly with his forearm. I jerked back slightly, feeling hot blood pour down my lip, but otherwise showed nothing. Clearly angered, he roughly grabbed my forearms and bound them with some cording from the ground. I didn't resist. I didn't think I had the strength to, and I also wanted to show him that I was better. That I didn't need to strike out uncontrolably, as he did. Becasue I was better than him, and I wanted him to know it. He grabbed me roughly by the arm again, shoving me forward. He forced me into the trunk, and just before he shoved me in he pushed my head down. I didn't resist. Sometimes keeping your head up makes it easier to get your throat slit.

* * *

_**Mal Fallon**_

A week had passed since I found Natara's locket, and I was still in Israel. The only other thing Locke and I had uncovered was a few blocks down, where blood matching Natara's type was all over the ground and there was a clear sign of a struggle. Of course there were no witnesses, since all the surrounding homes were rentals for visiting foreigners to stay. No one really rented them apparently, since they were in a rather sketchy part of town. The building where Natara's locket was found was vacant according to the owner. Whoever had taken Natara had broken in, simply using the place and cleaning up after themselves. I was still getting calls from back home every day, but I soon learned to keep my cell phone off. Some part of me knew that I had to find Natara before New Years. For some reason, I felt like if I didn't find her I never would. That I would spend the new year, and all the ones following it, without her. I thought, since the holidays for this area were over now and the streets were less crowded, it would be easier to find her. But unless something came up soon, it seemed that Natara would be spending Christmas with her captors. I knew this was true when the twenty fourth hit, and still nothing had come up. I know for a fact someone from Natara's family, Neha I suspected, had called me. I didn't take the call, I couldn't take it. What was I supposed to say? It was later that day when Locke, who was for some unknown reason still helping me, tried to prepare me for the worst.

"Detective Fallon?" he had said. It was fairly late, and I was looking through the photos of the crime scene, trying to find a clue that I knew wasn't there. I didn't respond. "It has been two weeks" he continued "have you considered the fact that agent Williams may be…gone?".

"I have, but that doesn't change anything".

"Detective Fallon…" he repeated "do you understand what I mean when I say gone?".

"I understand perfectly" I snapped "but I need to bring her home either way".

The thought that Natara might already be lost was unbearable. I couldn't stand the fact that I might never be able to bring her home. Even if she was dead, what kind of man can't even give the love of his life a proper funeral? What kind of person would give up on her?

"I understand" Locke said quietly, in a voice that was almost understanding. There was an awkward pause. "My wife, Sarah, and I moved to Australia soon after we were married. It was the only place she ever really wanted to live". He cleared his throat quietly, this was clearly a sensitive subject for him. "Sarah died in a car accident eight years later, which is why I moved back here. It was where we both grew up".

It all made sense to me now. He saw himself and Sarah in Natara and I. It explained why he didn't leave to be with his family while the holidays were still going on. It explained why he was determined to help me.

"I'm sorry" I said quietly.

"She is so far away" he choked out. His face was calm and emotionless, but his voice was shaking. "I buried her in Australia, becasue she always said it was where she belonged. That it was where her home was". He paused for a moment, clearly overcome by this memory. "'Home is where the heart is'" he said quietly. "It is something Sarah always used to say. It is an American saying, is it not?".

I nodded, for some reason thinking of that phone call from Neha. She deserved to know, but I still couldn't bring myself to make that call. "I'll be right back" I muttered, already heading outside. I didn't look back at Locke as I walked out, and pulled out my phone as I reached the street corner outside the police station. I wasn't going to lie, but wasn't about to tell the truth either. Not even planning what I was going to say, I typed in the number before I could chicken out.


	6. Chapter Six: Mal and Natara

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**mozzi-girl: Thanks so much! I get what you mean, I fear insanity also. I have apiphobia, and because of that I feel like my fear controls me. It's like I lose contol of myself, and it's the worst feeling in the world for me. That's where I think my fear really comes from, and why it's my greatest fear. I honestly am not that afraid of death (or spiders, but that's partially because of where I live they're everywhere…). I don't mean to go all religious on you, but I believe in life after death, and in a higher power. Still, it's nice to know I'm not alone in my fear :) Thanks so much!**

**maltararox21: Thanks so much! I spent a while messing with Locke's character, I wanted him to help Mal, but didn't want people thinking he's getting in the way of Maltara. (Which is why Sarah was put in). And actually…the weird thing is I'm watching Freinds as I type this :) Anyways, I'm really glad you like Locke's character. He's actually sort of stolen from a school project I did a while ago, but ironically Sarah doesn't exist and he dies in that story…**

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_**Mal Fallon:**_

Christmas eve wasn't supposed to be when you got a call about your sisters kidnapping. It wasn't a time for bad news. But when I called Neha back, that's what I told her. The whole truth, and nothing but it. I would be better for her to find out the details from me, rather than the twisted version from others. She didn't speak the entire time, only listening. I think she was in shock, she hadn't realized the severity of Natara's disappearance. Her sister had gotten out of trouble before, why not now? After an unceremonious goodbye I hung up, returning to the framiliar room that was Locke's office. As I entered I saw something I hadn't before, a picture of a woman on his desk. She was smiling, the ocean gleaming behind her. Locke was standing behind her, and from this I could tell it was a recent picture. Locke's face hadn't aged a day. It couldn't have been very long ago that Sarah had died.

"You don't have to do this you know" I said. He obviously hadn't heard me coming, for he jumped slightly. "This isn't your problem, and I could get you in trouble".

He didn't respond for a moment, and at first I thought he was feigning deafness. "I know" he finally said "but it is something Sarah would have done".

_**Natara Williams**_

14 days. That's how long I heard I was gone. When I finally escaped the trunk of that car and was led into the basement of what looked like an old closed-down shop, that is what I overhead. I was taken at night, and unlike the room I was in before, I could see that morning had come and gone. Morning was just coming now, and I could do the math. I was gone fifteen days now. Yesterday was Christmas day. I had to wonder what my family had done on that day. Surely they knew I was missing by now, and I hoped they were to get through yesterday. It made me wonder what Mal was doing. Was he even aware I was gone? Was he doing anything about it? I forced myself to push these thoughts away. There was no reason to get my hopes up, it would only wear me down when I found out the truth. In the best interest of my sanity, I forced myself to look at the little things that were getting better. I could see during the day, because of a window the size of my hand mounted at the top of the eight-foot high wall. I had a small working bathroom. I had a sink, which I used to clean myself up after I arrived. My ribs were starting to heal, thanks to the time I went unmoving at my last location. Every day I woke up to a small amount of food, usually some sort of pita bread, sitting at the door. I could get drinking water from the sink.

But I knew something was wrong. I woke up one morning, covered in cold sweat. I knew it was the twenty-seventh, because one of the things I did to keep myself sane was counting down the days. I was hot, but at the same time I was cold. It was as if my blood was boiling, but my skin was made of ice. My hair was plastered down with sweat, but I was shivering uncontrollably. My heart was racing, and I couldn't seem to draw in enough breath. I felt like I had just sprinted a mile. Feeling as if I was about to be sick, I ran to the sink. My vision was swimming before me, my arms tingling with numbness. I felt like I was going to pass out. I gripped the sides of the sink, shutting my eyes until this passed. When it did, I opened my eyes again and looked up at the grimy mirror above the sink. My face had a sickly pallor, giving me the appearance of a ghost. In my past few days here I had used a washcloth I had found to wipe most of the dried blood from my shirt. I had hesitantly removed my makeshift bandages, finding the bleeding had stopped. I cleaned them, but put them back on just be be safe. They were still painful enough to deter me from trying to escape, but they had been starting to feel better. But now they felt as if they were burning, just like the day I had received them. Carefully, I peeled away the wrapping just below my ribs, hoping it wasn't going to be too bad.

Oh. My. God. It was bad. It was _really_ bad. There were bright red veins, not unlike spiderwebs, weaving across the skin just below my ribs. They surrounded the now swollen wound at the bottom of my ribcage, and the sight of this nearly made me faint. I'm no doctor, but I know what blood poisoning is. And I knew my chances weren't good. Part of me was glad I couldn't properly see my shoulder, becasue I didn't think I could handle it. Mainly becasue I didn't want to look at it, I wrapped it back up and pulled my blood-stained shirt back over it. Shaking from both the illness and from shock, I slowly pulled myself back over to where I had been sitting. I barely made it back, I was so lightheaded the floor seemed to shake beneath me. By the time I got back my heart was still racing, and I could still feel the affects of a fever. I buried my face in my knees, fighting to keep hold of reality. How long did I had left? My guess was a week maybe, two tops. Then I would be gone, and the little hope I had left would die.

I sat like that for the good part of an hour, practically willing the illness away. It was all I could do, there was nothing I could do to help it. The only chance I had was in other people. Even if I could get to a hospital in time, which was unlikely, I still would only have maybe a 50/50 chance. I told myself to just wait it out. How long ago had it been since Neha was taken, two years maybe? I had faith in Mal then, and I had known he would come back for me. And I had to have that same hope now, it was all I had to hold onto. Even if I didn't make it, this dirty basement-like room wasn't the last thing I wanted to see. I wanted to see the familiar face of someone I loved, and I knew if it happened it would most likely be Mal.

I heard the lock on the door come undone and my head snapped up. It had scared me more than it should have, I hadn't had the warning of footsteps on the stairs since I was lost in thought. I was expecting the man, or even the woman to come barging in. I had yet to see the driver again, and I suspected that he was simply a temporarily hired service and wasn't a huge part of my kidnapping. It was the woman who came in, but she looked different than the last time I saw her. Or maybe I hadn't looked at her properly before. As she entered she was timid, as if she were the one who had been kidnapped. I now realized she was much older than me, with her dark hair flecked with grey and thin lines forming on her cheeks. She had a cut just below her eye, and she was crying. Her dark eyes were glassy and unmoving, they could have belonged to a doll. For some reason I didn't see her as a threat, and even if I did there was little I could do about it. She kneeled down next to me, using the pad of her thumb to wipe away the tear and blood mixture that was running down her cheek. She was holding rather than wearing her wedding band, which was something I hadn't realized was in her possession, and I could have sworn I had seen a ring similar to this before. It took me a moment to remember, and when I did her visit suddenly made sense. I had seen the same ring on the finger of Locke's impersonator. I now didn't wonder how this injury got there, it was obvious now. She was married to him, married to a tyrannical sadist. It was possible she didn't want to do any of this, that she was being forced to.

When she spoke, I could barely understand her. She said her words so softly and her accent was so thick, at first I thought she was speaking in Hebrew. "Please" she whispered "I do not know what to do. You have helped people before. If you can help me, I will try to help you. Can you help me?".

There was a certain look in her eyes, something so broken that it was apparent she had been looking for a way out for many years. "I can try" I said, trying to keep my voice steady. But my voice shook, not from fear or any emotion, but from how much I was shivering. It was a reminder ofhow little time I had left.


	7. Chapter Seven: Natara and Mal

**Review Replies:**

**Oryt: Thanks so much! And you will be learning more about Sarah…there is more to her and Locke's story :)**

**maltararox21: Thanks! And there is a little more to Locke's story…but you'll find more about that later ;) Anyways, thanks a lot! When I write about Natara…my thesaurus has become my best friend.**

**mozzi-girl: Oh my gosh, really? That's awesome! That really means a lot, thanks! Glad to hear its not just me who's afraid of bees! Anyways, needles and hospitals don't really bother me. The thing is, I work with little kids and animals every day in school. There is very little that can freak me out after some of the completly weird things that happen with stuff like that…**

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_**Natara Williams**_

"This used to be a bakery" she said quietly "it used to belong to my mother".

I had managed to calm the woman down after a few moments, for her accent made it hard enough to understand her, and the gasping noises she made as she cried only made things worse. I knew it was odd, a kidnapping victim comforting her captor, but I knew it could be my only way out of here.

"But Gabriel did not like that. He did not like it when I was away from home. I thought nothing of it then, we had a son and I thought that he wanted me home with him. But our son, Michael, has grown up. He moved to America many years ago, but things have not changed. I have wanted to move over there with him for years, but Gabriel will not allow it".

I nodded. I didn't even need to ask who Gabriel was, because I knew this must be the name of Locke's impersonator. "He is, as we would call him in criminology, a Sadist".

"I do not know—".

"It means he likes control" I said, cutting across her. "It's a mental disorder. He finds joy in the embarrassment and suffering of others, because it gives him a feeling of power. People like him like to control the people around them".

She nodded slowly, and I knew it was because it was a lot to take in.

"He was born here you know" she said quietly "but his family moved to America before he could even talk. When we moved back here is when I met him. Everyone said being with him was a bad choice, but of course this made me want to go against that. But after we were married was when things changed. I tried to leave so many times, but I could not. I do not know where to go". She was crying again, tears once again streaming down her face.

"What's your name?" I asked softly, trying to calm her down.

"Eliora" she said quietly, trying to regain her composure.

"Does your son still live in America?".

She nodded "Somewhere near San Diego I think. I do not really know, Gabriel and I never visited".

"Then I promise, if you can get me out of here, I'll make sure you can find him again. I'll try and bring you back to America with me".

She was already covering her mouth with her hands, her eyes glassy. She nodded, her voice shaky as she said "Thank you".

She slowly got to her feet, shaking slightly. It was clear that the prospect of being reunited with her son had made her eager to help. "Gabriel is gone for the day, he had business with work near Ashdod. He should be gone for most of the day, meaning I only have a few hours to look for anyone looking for you".

My immediate thought was to send her to find Mal, but I didn't even know if he was anywhere near here. Surely Locke, the real one, would be looking for me. If I was supposed to be working with someone and they dropped off the face of the earth, I know I'd be looking for them. And I hoped this Locke man thought this way too. Who knows? He must live in this area, so maybe Eliora knows him.

"Do you know a man named Locke Katz?" I asked, hoping very much that she did. There was no way I would be able to give a description of him, and this total stranger was my only hope.

Surprisingly, Eliora immediatly reacted to this name. Her eyes became wide, and she opened her mouth as if she were about to say something. Clearly deciding agaist it, she closed her mouth and nodded. I didn't press the matter, I could still feel the effects of my fever and didn't think I had enough energy to appear forcful enough to interrogate her. "Find him" I said "but don't just go up and tell him where I am. If he arrests you, it could be hours until…". I didn't finish that scentence. I didn't have to. In a few hours Gabriel would be back. And with the way my fever was going up…I wasn't even sure I had that long.

"Look for him by the airport" I said, knowing it was likely he would return to the place I was taken.

"What should I do?" she said "how do tell him you're here?".

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_**Mal Fallon**_

Around noon Locke suggested we go by the airport and talk to some workers there. We had already done this days earlier, but since no leads had come up it was better than doing nothing. I was waiting while Locke talked to a receptionist in rapid Hebrew, when I spotted a woman staring at me. Well, not really at me, but fixated on something very close to me. I looked away for just a moment, and that's when she disapeared. But something about her was bothering me, and I had just turned around to tell Locke when I nearly bumped into her. She had somehow maneuvered the crowds and crossed the room, and was staring at Locke. She looked nervous, as if trying to build up the nerve to talk to him.

She stood for a moment, and when about a minute passed I asked her "Ma'am? Can I help you?". At first I thought she didn't speak English. Her eyes widened, and she glanced several times from me to Locke. "Do you need to talk to him?" I asked her slowly, seeing how she kept glancing at Locke. Instead, she pulled a pamphlet out from behind her. It looked like it was some kind of take-out menu, but was written in Hebrew. She didn't even look at me when she shoved it in my hand, scurrying away as if frightened. I tried to see where she had run to, but she was quickly lost in the crowd. After a moment I looked down at the paper, trying to make sense of what was written. I could feel something tucked inside of it, something small and thin.

"Where did you get that?".

I turned around to see Locke, looking over my shoulder at the pamphlet. He had clearly just finished talking, missing seeing the mysterious woman entirely.

"Some woman came over, looked like she wanted to talk to you. When I asked her if she needed anything she gave me this and ran away".

"That is odd, that menu is from a bakery not far from here, but it closed down years ago".

I unfolded the pamphlet, and almost dropped the paper when I saw what was inside.

I would recognize that color anywhere, and I knew just from looking at it that this woman was giving me a clue.

Without even moving a strand, I closed the pamphlet, making sure the coffee-brown lock of hair inside did't fall out.


	8. Chapter Eight: Natara

**Review Replies:**

**mozzi-girl: Thanks so much! And examples? Well…that's a long list. But in just the past few months we've had a cow escape in the school, a Llama escape in the school, a kid escape the preschool room, an unexpected fire drill in the middle of preschool, a random ACTUAL fire in the school, a lesson on how to give subcutaneous injections to cattle and swine…and this is just in two of my classes O.o Yeah…not a lot catches me off guard anymore.**

**Oryt: Thanks so much! And you'll probably find out what Eliora knows about Locke in the next chapter :D Anyways, the hair thing was kinda on-the-spot. I was wracking my brain for something else she could have tucked in it, but in the end I couldn't think of anything and and just ended up going with random hair due to lack of creativity O.o**

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_**Natara Williams**_

I was going downhill fast. I thought I had at least a week, but at this point I was happy to make it one hour to the next. I was shivering violently, as if my blood had turned to ice. But my skin was hot, so much so I was almost surprised that I couldn't see the heat coming off of my body. I was curled up on the floor, slightly propped up from my last attempt to get up. My mouth was so dry, and I had tried several times to get up and get a drink. But every time I did so the room would spin, and I could barely keep myself from falling as I gave up and got back on the ground. I had to wonder what was taking Eliora so long. Shouldn't she have come back by now? The sun through my small window was dimming, she's been gone for hours.

That's when I hear a thump from upstairs. It was Gabriel, I knew it.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

He was knocking on the front door, expecting Eliora to let him in so he doesn't have to take out his key. I heard someone yelling, and I knew he was yelling for Eliora to let him in.

_Crash!_

This normally would have made me jump, but I already slipping away, and barely noticed the noise. I was never so aware of how my heart beat, or how much effort it took to fill my lungs with air. All my senses seemed to sharpen except for my hearing, which was now almost non-existent. I never noticed the slightly sour smell of old flour. Or how sandpaper-like the cement floor was. I was dying, but I had never felt so alive. I barely registered the sound of steps on the stairs, and didn't even respond when I heard the doorknob move.

Surely Gabriel was looking for his wife, suspecting she was here with me. He was going to see she was gone, and was going to take his anger out on me.

But after a moment the door came down with a deafening crunch, and it took me a moment to get my eyes to focus on who was entering.

It was not Gabriel. It wasn't even Eliora. It was, in every way, impossible. But somehow, Mal was standing in the doorway. He said my name I think, but I wasn't sure. His words were muffled, as if I was underwater. The next thing I knew he was trying to help me, trying to get me up so he can get me to safety. But I had already learned to associate touch with pain, and I instinctually flinched at his touch. I regretted it immediately, I could see the fear in his gaze. I heard someone, Locke I suspected, yell. In the background I saw one man being tackled down the steps by the other, and from Mal's lack of reaction I know the one being pushed wasn't his ally. With all this going on it was overwhelming. It was too much, too much to take in. My head hurt too much and my eyes were so heavy, I couldn't help it when they began to close. But Mal was shaking me, gently, as I'd trying to wake me. He was calling my name, but I could barely hear him. He was so far away…

I felt him push something into my hand, something small and metal. The world came back in a rush, and I could finally hear what was going on around me. My eyes snapped open, and it felt like I was seeing for the first time.

The man, Locke I think, had Gabriel pinned down. Both were panting, but Locke still managed to scream at Gabriel like a madman. "Do you know who I am?".

Gabriel didn't respond, and I could hear Locke throwing insults at him in both English and Hebrew. "Look at me and tell me you do not recognize me!".

I looked up to see Mal's saying something to me, but I was so fixated on the world around me that I didn't notice.

"Nat, are there more?" I finally heard him ask loudly. I had to say 'no' several times for him to hear me.

"Get her out of here!" I heard Locke yell. Before I knew it Mal grabbed me just below my shoulders and under my knees, holding my in a way that a groom might carry a bride. His wrist was digging into the injury in my shoulder, but I barely felt it. The only thing I felt was how awkwardly my right arm was pressed into my chest, my palm forced into my collar bone. Entrapped in my palm was the little piece of metal Mal forced into my hand. The tiny metal feathers were pressed into my skin, and for a moment this was the only thing I had left in the world. I could feel the world slipping away, and my last thought was that maybe the tiny silver wings of the locket would open up and allow me to fly away. But as soon as I form this thought I shut my eyes, and the world seemed to disappear with my sight.


	9. Chapter Nine: Natara

**Review Replies: **

**maltararox21: Thanks so much! So many words invented just for my stories…I feel honored :D**

**Oryt: Thanks so much! I am honored! I know what you mean, I end up reading the most random things when I can't sleep, and I either A) start raging or B) start having spasms. And what you said about Locke? I don't know if it was supposed to be a joke, but it made me laugh way more than it should have.**

**The One and Only -A: Thanks! **

**MexiFBI95: Thanks so much! **

**mozzi-girl: Glad to hear it, thanks! **

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_**Natara Williams**_

When I open my eyes again I saw nothing but darkness. It took my eyes a moment to adjust, and when they did I could finally see where I was. The walls around me appeared to be white, and next to me was a large window from which moonlight came through. For a moment I thought my captors had moved me again, but then I remembered what happened just before I passed out. Mal and Locke…did I imagine them? Where they just a fever-induced hallucination, or had I actually been rescued? I thought the latter was correct, because from what I could tell I was in a hospital. I no longer felt the affects of my fever, and I could feel tight and skillfully wrapped bandages around my shoulder and below my ribs. Rather than the cold floor, I was in a warm bed. I could feel and IV in my arm. I could feel something cold in my hand. I slowly turned my head to see what it was, but all I could see was a thin string of silver slipping out from between my fingers. I open my palm, revealing a small silver lump in the palm of my hand. It was my locket. It was clean now, the doing of one of a hospital workers I suspected, but it was the same one I had received the day I left for Israel. It's the same one that shoved into my collar bone when I fell the day I was taken. The same locket I left behind as a clue. The one Mal pressed into my palm when he found me. I pulled it closer to me so that I could see it in the corner of my eye without turning my head. It was so cold, but knowing it's story, it almost felt alive. For the first time in over two weeks, I felt safe enough to sleep. And that's what I did.

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I had been asleep for two days, meaning the morning I saw Mal again was New Years eve. You wouldn't know it was New Years eve from looking around, as there was none of that holiday feeling here. Because of the planes being booked for the holidays, we weren't going to make it home for New Years. But it was okay, because I had a little piece of home with me now. My promise was still kept, because I was still able to spend New Years with Mal. It was later in the day when I finally met this Locke person, who apparently had helped Mal find me. The hospital had a small garden in the back for the patients, and since I absolutely loathed being stuck outside, this was where Mal and I went to catch each other up. It was around noon when I saw a dark-haired man in a crisp uniform come outside, and as he neared Mal called to him. The man smiled at me, and I recognized him as the man who tackled Gabriel.

"Life sentence, no parol" he said. He wasn't exactly happy, but more so relived. Like a weight had been taken off of his back.

"But there hasn't even been a trial" Mal pointed out.

"He was not charged with the Agent killings" he said "At least, not yet".

"Then what—" Mal started, but stopped abruptly, seeing the look on Locke's face. "Sarah wasn't killed in a car accident, was she?".

Locke's eyes darted to the ground, as if wishing he could disappear into the sidewalk. He took a deep breath, and when he spoke his voice became softer. "Technically, yes. When the first FBI agent was kidnapped, the police here asked a favor of me. They wanted me to come back and assist in the investigation. I was fairly well know around here for getting my job done. I left Sarah in Australia, and soon after I began this investigation, I got the call that Sarah was gone…" he trailed off, seemingly taking a moment to compose herself. "But when they looked at Sarah's car, they saw it had been sabotaged. I knew whoever did it wanted to draw me away from Israel, and I knew it had to be the same person kidnapping FBI agents. I allowed myself two days to go back, and when I returned I kept searching for whoever did it. After his arrest, we found that Gabriel had bought a ticket to go down to Australia. He was only gone for four days, and the day after he returned was when the second Agent went missing. Only one out-of-place finger print was found on Sarah's car, and it was an exact match. Gabriel has been charged with first degree murder, and after they are able to charge him with killing those agents, he will probably be sent to America for trial".

"What about Eliora?" I asked. I hadn't heard from her since she left to find Locke.

"She has to stick around for a while for the trials, but I will be sure that she finds her son and makes her way to America".

"So it's over then" Mal said "It's all over".

I took a breath of relief at this, as if it wasn't really true until someone said it. But he was right, it was over now.

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Mal stayed with me the rest of the day, and it wasn't long after we spoke with Locke that I looked at Mal's watch. It was still set on what time it was in San Francisco, and it showed that it was almost midnight. He noticed where I was looking and glanced down also.

"Happy New Years" I said quietly.

He smiled, and just like the day I left, he put his hand under my chin and kissed me just above the space between my eyes. It was the same gesture I had once thought was odd, but something I would now never take for granted.

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**So I'm thinking about writing some more Supernatrual type stories, what do you think? Maybe some horror and ghost stories? I have about three idea's for stories in those catagories now, so let me know if that's the kind if thing you want to see. **

**Thanks so much for reading!**


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